Saturday, July 5, 2008

Self Remembering

Even though my eyes have been open, I see for the first time in weeks. My body moves with a robot’s grace. It slithers through the drive-in, quickly ordering the simplest of lives, the thinnest morsel of consciousness. Little slivers of meat are barely warmed, placed on a hotplate to bake in the tepid currents of a half life. I open my eyes. For a moment I am here. I find myself driving. Dozens of other cars swarm around me, vying for speed. Ahead, the road stretches, almost endless in its reach, cutting through valleys and oak covered land.. On both sides, hillsides roll with a golden elegance, soft and contoured, sweet as a warm body waiting for a firm touch. I look around for the first time in months, I feel for a sparkling shadow of a second. The strangeness, the utter strangeness of waking in a moving car. Of waking with eyes already open, a body already dressed. Glitchy electronic music is playing, water bottles are empty, laying upon the seat beside me. I find myself moving fast, nearly 80 miles an hour. Just where am I going? For a moment, I am startled and confused, unaware of the original purpose this body set forth.
The eucalyptus trees that line the road are familiar, I have been down this path before, but why? Where am I going. For a moment, I am outside the skin, watching a pretty girl holding the steering wheel with both hands, surrounded by the last bastions of nature on a dwindling coast. Her chest expand as she grows slightly taller, her spine untangling itself from the coils of sleep. She sees tall trees that dominate the view, a moving black shape grabs her attention as she raises her head to the hawk circling the skies above her. She shivers, clueless about the destination. Keep driving she thinks, maybe you’ll remember.
And then I am in again. Unaware of the pretty girl driving. Where did she go? I look out, from eye sockets, from brown irises that belong to me. I am sitting in a car. I am driving, I am going to work. What shall I eat for lunch. Maybe I can convince the boys to eat sushi with me…I drift in a haze for twenty minutes. I worry about my new roommate, I feel the strain of a restless night of sleep. I feel tired. I am tired. Why is this person going so slow? I take a deep breath in, filling my lungs to the hilt. My heart returns from the depths, pounding with a ferocious beat. I feel the energy that circles within.
As I bring my attention inwards, I see the pretty girl again. She is driving. She is sitting in a black truck, going slightly too fast. Her hair is a mess, but she says she likes it that way. She drives, her eyes are just slightly more alert, the pupils just a little larger than usual. Her heart is beating with just a little too much intensity. And she drives.

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